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With the route set, now I needed to prepare my machine for the trip. I decided to make this run on my 1985 Honda GoldWing. I prepared a maintenance checklist with all of the items that would need to be checked. Then got started with oil change & filter, air filter, new plugs, and etc. Finished all of the maintenance items up, and a 150 mile check ride on Sunday June 23, 1996. The bike was ready. Now for packing. Made sure all of the essentials were loaded, Gator Aid, Power Bars, riders log, receipt bag, first aid kit, rain suit, cold weather gear, and etc. The bike was ready.
About a week before the ride, I started preparing my body for the ride, increased physical activity and eating right. Then three days before the ride I started eating lots and lots of pasta, carb-ing up for the trip. The body was as ready as it was going to get.
The night before the ride, I went down the street to visit a neighbor, who happens to be a Lee's Summit police officer. I explained what I was going to do, and asked him if I could wake him at 04:00 to fill out my witness form. He most graciously consented to get up and fill out my form. All that was left, was the wait. Having been out very late on Saturday night and getting very little sleep the day before the ride, could be problem, so I knew that I would need to get to bed early on Sunday night. "Aw, the best laid plans of mouse's and long distance rider's." Got to bed at 10:30 PM that night, didn't go to sleep until about 11:15, the alarm is set for 3:00 AM. I awoke at 2:57 AM to the sound of thunder, it was raining "cats & dogs", this is cool, I set the alarm back an hour to get a little more sleep and to let the storm pass. Good plan. Woke up before 4:00 AM, didn't hear any thunder, so I got up and got a cup of coffee and turned on the "Weather Channel." Looked at the local radar, and the storm had passed, "Ok" time to "Go Dog Go." Got dressed, forgot to kiss my wife good-bye, (got an ass eating later that day for that) and ran down the street to wake up my neighbor. He was already up, and was waiting for me. We walked up to my house and he filled out my witness form. Said our good-byes, and off to a "Seven/Eleven" for gas and my first receipt. Got to "Seven/Eleven" and made my first of thirteen (13) log entries, filled up the tank, went inside, paid for my gas. Time: 04:45:09 CST, 06/24/96, the clock was now running.
"Off, like a ruptured duck" as my father used to say, I threaded my way out of Lee's Summit and into Kansas City. Traffic was light at this time of day so I flew through town and out to I-29 heading north. For the first 1245 miles the ride was picture perfect, the weather was pleasant, the scenery was good-to- wonderful. I was making great time. But then, after a gas stop in Cheyenne, Wyoming, all hell broke loose. It was dark, and one of those huge thunder storms was rolling off the Rockies, coming right down on top of me, and my motorcycle.
I was treated to one of the most spectacular lighting displays that I have ever seen. It lit up the night like day for three to four seconds at a time. Lighting from horizon to horizon. In all of this lighting, I saw very few strikes to ground, the sky was just electric. Then as I moved closer to the leading edge of the storm front, the wind started to gust. I am use to riding in the wind here in Missouri, the wind almost always blows, and blows hard at times. This is because we are so close to Kansas, you know Kansas sucks, causing the wind to blow in Missouri. So I wasn't to concerned about a little wind. But I was struck by a blast of wind that nearly blew me over, not just scooting me across the lanes of traffic, but almost slapped me straight over. That scared the crap out of me, luckily that was the only gust like it I hit. Most of the time the wind was running thirty to forty mph from the West. I could handle that. Then the rain started, or should I say the monsoon. With the lighting, the wind, and the buckets of rain coming down, I slowed down. I was still making good time. Then the first of two hail storms hit. At first I wasn't sure it was hail, I just thought it was really big rain drops, but they started to hurt. As quick as the hail started, it was over. This is cool, all I have to contend with is the wind and monsoon, I can do that. Now the plot thickens, let's throw road construction into the fray and see what shakes out. Moving into the construction zone, I see an orange sign, on it say's something that I have never seen on a construction sign, "Caution Very Rough Road Ahead." "I ain't ever seen a sign like that." And to top it off, they weren't kidding around. At one time I think the Honda and I were two feet off the ground. It was the wildest ride I have ever lived through. Rough road, torrid rains, hail, and hideous winds, what a combination for a great ride. As I approached the end of the construction zone, the wind and rain started to let up. I was out the construction zone, and all of the sudden it got very cold, yes, it started to hail on me again. This time it was big. It beat me half to death, one piece of hail came down and hit me right on top of my knee cap, I thought it tore it off. I almost to pee'd my pants it hurt so bad. Made it though the hail, and in the distance I could see that the storm was braking up, I was going to make it after all. After 121 miles of hell on Earth, I pulled into Bennett, Colorado, only to be greeted by a beautiful starry, moon-lit night. "Ain't it great when a plan comes together."
Did I forget to mention the hydroplaning that I did coming into Denver. Apparently the storm that I rode through also passed through Denver. Back up to speed, since the rain had stopped, suddenly the bike felt real light, I had no steering. The bike felt real weird, not funny, because then I would have to laugh, I didn't like the feeling anyway. So I slowly rolled off the throttle, and the bike touched down again. The water spray being thrown up from the front wheel was hitting the bottoms of my feet. It actually hurt. The ruts in the road from the 18 wheelers were full of water, so I had to try and keep the bike up on the center hump of the lane. Of course the wind was still blowing making my task all the more difficult.
After Denver, it was smooth riding into Goodland, Kansas, the end of my travels for one day. Landed at a gas station, filled up and got the magic receipt; 03:11 MST, 06-25-96, 23 hours and 26 minutes, according to my log, 1,537 miles. I did it, I completed the longest and fastest one day ride in my 25 years of riding. After my self congratulations, I got directions to the Goodland Police Station. It amazed me, but I rode straight to it, and didn't get lost once. I went into the lobby of the building, and a voice from out of the ceiling spoke to me, "Can I help you sir?" the voice echoed. "Yes, I need to see a officer." "What is your problem sir?" "I don't have a problem." "What is your problem sir?" Then I proceeded to explain what was going on, sort of like the explanation to the Judge in "Alice's Restaurant Massacre", but the voice cut me off before I really got going good and said "A officer will be down shortly." I thanked the voice in the ceiling, and waited for the officer. He came out, I explained what I was doing, he wasn't all that impressed, but he did fill out my witness form non-the-less. I thanked him, and took off for a hotel room. I was tired, but not bloodied. I had won the race.
Five hours later, the housekeeper was knocking on the door, it was time to "Go Dog Go" again. I had completed the Bun Burner ride, but I still had better than 400 miles to go before I was home, "Oh well, another day, another dollar." Though I must say it was one of the best Kansas crossing that I had ever done, the weather was wonderful, and traffic was light. Pulling into the garage at home, some 1,978 miles and 37 1/2 hours after leaving the house for this ride, I was reminded of a saying by a favorite daughter of Kansas, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home."
So what's next, with any luck I'll make the `97 Iron Butt Rally, but that's not a sure thing. So, I think I'll go to the "Golden Aspen" Rally in Ruidoso, via New York City and San Diego, maybe a 50/CC sort of ride. "Hang on Toto, it's a twister."
"...For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move..." Robert Louis Stevenson
Dennis Bitner
GDG (Go Dog Go)
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